And can you not do this? Are there no mercies that you have experienced? What! Though you are gloomy now, can you forget that blessed hour when Jesus met you and said, "Come unto me"? Can you not remember that rapturous moment when He snapped your fetters, dashed your chains to the earth, and said, "I came to break your bonds and set you free"? Or if the love of your conversion be forgotten, there must surely be some precious milestone along the road of life not quite grown over with moss, on which you can read a happy memorial of His mercy toward you. What! Did you never have a sickness like that which you are suffering now, and did He not restore you? Were you never poor before, and did He not supply your wants? Were you never in difficulties before, and did He not deliver you?
Arise, go to the river of your experience and pull up a few bulrushes and fashion them into an ark, in which your infant-faith may float safely on the stream. Forget not what your God has done for you; turn over the book of your remembrance, and consider the days of old. Can you not remember the hill Mizar? Did the Lord never meet with you at Hermon? Have you never climbed the Delectable Mountains? Have you never been helped in time of need? I know you have.
Go back, then, a little way to the choice mercies of yesterday, and though all may be dark now, light up the lamps of the past--they shall glitter through the darkness, and you shall trust in the Lord till the day break and the shadows flee away. "Remember your mercy, O LORD, and your steadfast love, for they have been from of old."1